Kitty’s breath got choppy. “Michael,” she sniffed. “Thanks for—well, you know.”
I pulled away and she fanned her face. I wiped a tear that hung at the corner of my eye.
“Jessie, come get your man. He’s a mess,” Kitty said, then handed me a small package with a card. “And take this to Guy.”
Everyone laughed. I noticed Obi and Annie, the maid of honor,having a quiet, but serious-looking conversation in the corner. So that’s who he was after. I saw him do a dorky punch of her in the shoulder and her laugh. They were acting like middle schoolers. I’d definitely give him some shit later.
“Hey, Jockey,” Jess cooed, “you look good.”
I smooched her. “You’re gorgeous, hon. Can’t wait to dance all night with you.”
“They did your hair,” she said, messing her fingers through the styled-up strands.
“Is it bad?” I checked my reflection in a pane of glass.
“No, you’re very dapper.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked, coasting my hands down her backside, taking a handful, and pulling her close. I leaned down to give her a deeper kiss.
“Hey! Quit playing grab ass and go do my bidding, Mikey!” Kitty cried. “I’m the only one who gets to play grab ass today.”
“Okay, Bridezilla,” I shot, sticking my tongue out at her and giving Jess one last peck. “See you at the altar.”
“Don’t trip or do something stupid,” Frank said.
“Frankie!” their mom barked. “You can’t be nice to your sister for one day?”
* * *
I gave Guy a pat on the back as Kitty appeared at the end of the aisle.
“She’s gorgeous, man.”
Guy wiped a tear, then laughed as Kitty did the same. I looked over at Jessie, who was also wiping a tear as Kitty went to meet Guy. Then she looked at me, a beam of light coming through the chapel’s window giving her an almost-angelic glow. I winked at her and she smirked. I hoped that one day, she’d say yes to my daily marriage proposal, and we’d get to do this ourselves. I knew it was kinda soon, but they say when you know, you know. AndI knew with Jessie. So I was serious when I asked her every day. Usually, it was in a moment when I felt especially close to her. Sometimes I’d do it over morning coffee. Sometimes over text. Sometimes at night just before we went to sleep and said our last I love you’s for the day. But I still got it in every day.
And every day, she said the same thing back: “Maybe someday.”
During pictures, I noticed a tall man who looked something like Stelle, but with more gray hair, standing off to the side and sipping a Coke. He moved to stand next to me while Guy and Kitty got some solo shots.
“Beautiful wedding, huh?” I asked, trying to make conversation.
“It is,” he said, accent thick.
“Did you come down from Quebec? I didn’t know Guy still had family up there.”
The man gave a wry smile. “He still has me.”
Realization cracked over me. “Holy shit. Are you Gabriel?”
“I am.”
I tensed, not sure if I should punch this guy out. I knew Stelle had a complicated relationship with his dad. Like, hadn’t spoken in years, didn’t go to his mom’s funeral complicated.
“Don’t worry. I was invited. We’ve spoken some in the last few months.”
I saw Guy give a little wave to him between shots, proving his words true.
I nodded. “How’s that going?”
